Latest Folklore

Old men used to raise their bonnets whenever they passed this stone. The alternative name translates as ‘oil stone’, which would be to do with some lost ceremony greater than a tip of the cap.

A bit more about the legends connected with Brent Knoll, as explained in Geoffrey Ashe’s ‘Landscape of King Arthur’ (1987).

Occultist Dion Fortune wrote about the hill in her novel ‘The Sea Priestess’ – she called it Bell Knowle and Ashe says she described it as ‘modelled by colonists from Atlantis’. Whilst this is Rather fanciful, you can’t help but admit that Brent Knoll has a decidedly impressive presence in the landscape, rising as an isolated bump at the edge of the utterly flat Somerset Levels. Its previous occupants gave it a single bank and ditch at the top, and may have steepened some of its slopes. It used to belong to Glastonbury Abbey – indeed you can see it from Glastonbury Tor.

A chronicler of the 13th century tells how King Arthur was holding court at Caerleon one Christmas (or should that be Midwinter?). He knighted a bold young man called Ider, who was the son of King Nuth. Ash reminds us that a Gwyn ap Nudd was the lord of the underworld, and he lived in Glastonbury Tor*, and had a run in with St Collen, if you recall. So it seems likely that King Nuth could refer to the same man?

As a new knight, Ider had to pass a test. He was told when at Glastonbury that three giants, ‘notorious for their wickedness’, lived on Brent Knoll, then known as the Mount of Frogs (Mons Ranarum). King Arthur intended to march against them, and Ider would be required to join him. Young and enthusiastic, Ider galloped ahead and slew all three giants singlehandedly. But unfortunately he was wounded himself, and by the time Arthur arrived Ider lay unconscious and dying. The King returned to Glastonbury blaming himself. He gave the lands around the hill to the abbey and asked the monks to pray for Ider’s soul.

Ider also appears as ‘Yder son of Nut’ in a French medieval romance by Chrétien de Troyes.

[*assuming this is the correct location of the St Collen story (see the Tor page).]

I met the farmer at this one, he told me that some men from the village of Doon or Dun Bleisce (this is funnily enough is what it is called when u enter the village but on the OS map it is only called Dún) had tried digging around these stones looking for a tunnel which lead from them down to the bridge at the river below. He also mentioned something about a road leading the same way. He told me a local man in Doon tommy carew knows more about them.

The Drake stone gets a mention in a few places, most recently on climbing websites. It merits a mention and a photo in the Bords’ ‘The secret Country’. In this book, and in other local histories, the Drake Stone is reported to have the ability to cure sick children who are passed over it. Tomlinson (1888) even goes so far as to comment that although he has seen no direct evidence of this, “"Harbottle is an exceptionally healthy place ........and mortality among children almost unknown”
It’s possible that Tomlinson took his information from a slightly earlier source, Murray’s Northumberland: handbook to durham and Northumberland (part II London 1873, p 324.) where it is stated that:
“Half a mile from Harbottle is the Drake Stone, a very interesting relic, being the Draag stone of the druids. By a small tarn near it is a druidical rock basin. The custom which still prevails in harbottle, of passing sick children over the drake stone may be a relic of druidical times, when they were probably passed through the fire on the same spot.”

Other folklore associated with the stone tells of a plan to drain the lough, which was abandoned after the workmen ran away afer hearing a disembodied voice cry:
“Let alone, let alone
Or I’ll drown Harbottle
And the Peels
And the bonny Holystone”
Which could of course just have been a good way to get out of what would have been an unenviable task. Folklore also has it that disembodied cries for help emanating from the stone were not unusual, with passing travellers spending the night in safety at the top but unable to descend in the morning.

In 1888 Geo.Marwick recalls when a boy being told by an old gentleman that after sunset on a full moon the able-bodied married women would take a ‘caisy’ of ashes and earth, which being dumped on the top or sides of “Mae-howe” would stengthen the mound to keep the bad folk in. And to show their contempt they would also leave their excrement there !

According to W B Dawkins’ 1880 “Early Man in Britain” (an excerpt online at Showcaves.com),
the ‘Pin Hole Cave’ is so called because people used to drop a pin in (for luck? for a wish? as an offering?) – part of the ritual being that they took away a pin left by another visitor previously.

showcaves.com/english/gb/showcaves/CreswellCragsDawkins.html#3

A spooky modern story connected with the Crags, summarised from Liz Linahan’s account in her ‘More pit ghosts, padfeet and poltergeists’ (1995):

One evening a couple were driving home past the crags, and stopped at some temporary traffic lights just near the visitors’ centre. The woman glanced out of her window and caught sight of a pale blurred circular shape in the briars next to her, about 2ft from the ground. As she watched it started floating back and forth (though the briars were really dense) and she saw it begin to take on the features of ‘an old hag’ with dark eyes and a beaked nose, and then hollow cheeks and long hair. At first she thought it must be a prank – but then felt scared and became convinced it was ‘something paranormal’. The face moved towards the car and the woman (not unreasonably) screamed, causing her husband to turn round – he said he saw the face briefly before stepping on the accelerator. The woman was so shaken when she got home that the doctor had to be called, and her husband and some police went back to the crags to investigate. They were bemused because entry inside the brambles was nigh on impossible, and one of the policemen ripped his coat trying to do so.

Also that night, around dawn, a lorry driver was driving along the same stretch of road when he had to brake hard and swerve to avoid a ‘dark mysterious figure’ crossing the road from the visitors’ centre side, where it disappeared into the bushes. Shaken, he described it as ‘floating’ and ‘seemingly headless’. He described it as female although there were no particular features that made it so.

One evening in the early 1900s a miner, who had just finished working at Creswell Colliery, thought he’d call in on his fancy woman in Creswell. He was safe because her own husband had just started his shift down the pit. After a bit of courting he set off for his own home in Clowne. He was striding up over Markland Craggs when he looked up ahead of him – and there was the Devil standing there, silhouetted by the full moon. Now really you’d think the Devil would be impressed by a bit of philandering, but apparently he cursed the man, and sent him home white-haired and mumbling gibberish. His own wife was not impressed and he was of no use to man nor beast thereafter.

This tale is described in Liz Linahan’s 1996 ‘More Pit Ghosts, Padfeet and Poltergeists’. Her informant told her he’d heard it from a woman who’d been told it in the 1920s, and liked repeating for the benefit of her poor husband. Even if it’s only a scare story to put off straying husbands, perhaps it still suggests that Markland Grips is not the sort of place you’d want to be on a dark night.

Marwick (“The Orkney Herald” 11/7/1888), rather fancifully, in my opinion, asserts that Linahowe means “the goddess of love and marriage”. He records that local tradition says the Church of Rome sent a priest called Mohr to the Bay of Skaill to convert the pagans, and that he set up a church near by Linahowe.

Marwick records the tradition (“The Orkney Herald” 11/7/1888) that folk went to the Bookan farmhouse for “the road and perhaps the order of the [pre-marital and marital] services” (Orkney Norn for the former service being ‘buikin’).

In Christine Bloxham’s book ‘Folklore of Oxfordshire’ (published by Tempus 2005), There is another version of the witche’s rhyme, associated with the Rollright stones involving a Danish General and goes thus:

Said the Danish General
If Long Compton I cou’d see
Then King of England I shou’d be
But replied the British General,
Then rise up hill and stand fast Stone
for Kind of England thou’lt be none

Bloxham’s book also tells that the stones can never be counted. A victorian baker, determined to count them accurately, brought a basket containing a pre counted number of loaves and put down one in front of each stone. But he either had not included enough loaves or they mysteriously vanished because he failed in his task.

Another legend says that if anyone can count the same amount of stones three times in a row, they shall have any wish granted.

The witch is said to have changed herself into an Elder tree. A festival of cakes and ale used to be held on Midsummer’s Eve, when the Elder was in bloom. People stood in a circle around the tree and as they cut the trunk it would weep red sap, resembling the witch’s blood, (blooding a witch is said to rid her of her magical powers) and the King Stone would move his head and watch the spectacle.

The last tale retold in Bloxham’s book tells of the Dowser Enid Smithett, who when dowsing at the site of the Rollrights, felt faint and dropped her pendulum in the long grass. Instead of flopping to the ground, it stood rigidly, for some time....

A Farrier from Hook Norton tells of how the King Stone got its unusual shape by saying an immoral king tricked Wayland Smithy into making enchanted armour for him, but upon wearing it he was twisted and deformed and turned to stone, for only the faeries could don that armour without risk of harm.

Taken from Sacred Ireland by Cary Meehan

“is traditionally known as the ‘Hill of Truth’. It is said to personify Donn Fírinne, the Celtic God of death and fertility. In folklore he is seen as a giant or the Fairy King. He is said to live at the bottom of a deep hole in the hillside called ‘Poll na Bruinne’ and anyone trying to investigate this entrance to the Otherworld will not come away unscathed and may even be drawn in, never to be seen again. There are many cautionary tales to deter the curious. However, good custodians are rewarded. One local farmer was granted temporary entrance to Donn’s world under the hill where he met with a brother and sister, both of whom had died many years before.
Donn is closely associated with weather omens. He is said to collect the clouds on his hill and hold them there for a while to warn of approaching rain. Sometimes he is said to be in the clouds if the weather is particularly bad. He is also said to be flying abroad when someone dies.
There is a cairn on the top of Knockfeerina called ‘Buachaill Bréige’, meaning ‘the false or lying boy’ and it was the custom, and indeed the duty, of local people, to carry a stone up the hill to put on this cairn once a year. The hilltop has traditionally been a popular Lughnasa assembly site visited at harvest-time, and at this time freshly picked berries and flowers were strewn around the cairn as offerings for the hill’s fairy inhabitants. On the eves of the festivals of Bealtaine and Samhain, young girls used to leave gifts high up on the side of the hill below the western ridge called ‘the Stricken’.
Like the hills to the east, Knockfeerina is also associated with the adventures of the Fianna. On the Stricken is a large ring-fort called ‘Lios na bhFian’ or ‘Fort of the Fianna’. One such adventure is named after the ‘Palace of the Quicken Trees’ where the Fianna become the victims of an act of revenge after being lured to a feast in an imaginary palace.
A little wary of the invitation, Fionn had left his son Oisin and a number of the Fianna behind. And sure enough, while they waited for the food to arrive, the fire began to send out black clouds of evil-smelling smoke. The palace around them disappeared and they found themselves sitting on the hillside and fixed to the ground, unable to rise.
Fionn put his thumb to his month, which he did when he wanted to see to the heart of things, and found that the spell that held them had been cast by the three kings of the Island of Torrent. These kings where marching on the palace to kill them and only the blood of these three kings could undo the spell.
When Oísín and the other Fianna came to see if they were alright, Fionn warned them not to come in. He explained what they must do to stop the kings. Evenutally the Fianna managed to intercept and then kill the three kings. They took their heads and sprinkled the blood around their companions. Thus the spell was broken.
Issues of revenge and death are common in Fianna stories. This particular story also illustrated the dark side of Knockfeerina and its reflection in the human psyche. On a lighter note, folk tradition has it that Donn and his followers fought battles on behalf of the countryside. They might take the form of a cross-country hurling match against the fairy people of Knockainy. The winner would take the best of the potato crop to their side of the county”

A quote from Aubrey Burl’s ‘Rites of the Gods’:

Up until the eighteenth century, a ‘barren wife’ might visit the circle during the night “in the hope that by baring her breasts and touching the Kingstone with them” she would be made pregnant.

Does this mean you actually become pregnant as a result of touching the stone – what Burl surely implies? He doesn’t specify his source. You’d imagine it more likely that the stone would make you more fertile and so more likely to get pregnant via the usual method. But maybe I’d never really thought about this (not uncommon?) idea before: maybe it is the former that was believed? Especially with the stone being male – the King in fact.

F.R. Coles wrote this about the stones in 1906
“Auld Wives’ Lifts belong, in the megalithic folk-lore, to the section which comprises legends of women, or witches, or carlines, who transport through the air masses of stone, great or small, and here and there drop them ; thus forming cairns, groups of standing stones, or single groups of enormous blocks, like the pierres levies
‘at Poictiers and other French localities. This remarkable group on Craigmaddie Muir has also associations with another phase of superstition ; for Mr Robertson observes that it is ” still necessary for all strangers visiting this enchanted place for the first time, to creep through it, if they wish to avert the calamity of dying childless.” He notes the old spelling was Craig-madden, and translates madden as
= moid/lean, entreaty, supplication : The rock of prayer.”

Could this be the place mentioned in ‘Math Son of Mathonwy’ in the Mabinogion?

Then they went towards Dinas Dinllev, and there he brought up Llew Llaw Gyffes, until he could manage any horse, and he was perfect in features, and strength, and stature. And then Gwydion saw that he languished through the want of horses and arms. And he called him unto him. “Ah, youth,” said he, “we will go to-morrow on an errand together. Be therefore more cheerful than thou art.” “That I will,” said the youth.

Next morning, at the dawn of day, they arose. And they took way along the sea coast, up towards Bryn Aryen. And at the top of Cevn Clydno they equipped themselves with horses, and went towards the Castle of Arianrod.

The notes of Lady Guest’s translation imply she thought so:
“DINLLEV*: DINAS DINLLE is situated on the sea-shore, about three miles southward from Caernarvon, in the parish of Llantwrawg, on the confines of a large tract of land, called Morva Dinlleu. The remains of the fortress consist of a large circular mount, well defended by earthen ramparts and deep fosses.”
*Probably ‘Dinlleu’ with a u, not a v? to tie in with Lleu Llaw Gyffes?

She also adds: “The Rev. P. B. Williams, in his “Tourist’s Guide through Caernarvonshire,” speaking of Clynnog in that county, says: “There is a tradition that an ancient British town, situated near this place, called Caer Arianrhod, was swallowed up by the sea, the ruins of which, it is said, are still visible during neap tides, and in fine weather.”

Indeed, there is a stack off the coast (no doubt visible from Dinas Dinlle?) called Caer Arianrhod.

You can read the story courtesy of the brilliant Sacred Texts Archive:
sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/mab/index.htm

From the website which Kammer links to below:

..a somewhat spooky story I unearthed about Cholesbury Camp a while back. Ever heard of the ‘Screaming Pigs of Cholesbury’? Well the story is told of strange ‘unearthly noises’ emanating from Camp and the reluctance of even the most fearless of the men of the village to enter the Hillfort after dusk. So if anyone fancying a stroll as darkness falls is welcome to test out this theory let me know what happens!

Neil Fairbairn, in his 1983 ‘Travellers guide to the kingdoms of Arthur’, mentions a Christianised version of the story. He says that at the end of the world the golden round table will rise to the earth’s surface and be carried up to heaven. The saints will sit round it to eat, and Christ will be the waiter and serve them.

He also mentions that at its yearly midsummer appearance, a flash of light from it briefly illuminates the sky, and then it sinks again. Nah that’ll just be the earthlights I reckon.

The Canmore record has a spot of folklore about this 9’10” stone from the Name Book of 1878: “It is said to mark the spot where the son of the Viking Harold Harfager was killed some time around 900AD. He is said to have been buried in the tumulus to the southwest.” I guess this tumulus must be the chambered cairn you can see on the OS map, which is on the island on the other side of the Skuda Sound.

Practically in Exmoor, one of the standing stones here (at SS601439) is 2.5m high – or at least it was before being struck by lightning very recently. The other (at ss603438) lies down and is 2.8m long (with another bit unattached slightly to the north, according to the SMR Magic record). Also on Mattocks Down, in the vicinity of the first stone, are four round barrows.

Lilian Wilson’s 1976 book ‘Ilfracombe Yesterdays’, gives the local view of the standing stone: “This is a rock believed to be a ‘Gathering Stone’ around which chiefs and tribes of that part of Devon met in times of trouble, or when they had matters to discuss.”

The ‘Alternative Approaches to Folklore’ bibliography at
hoap.co.uk/aatf1.doc
mentions that the stones at Ballochroy were thrown by Brownies (one assumes the little people type, not the bobble-hatted sort). Do you know more about the story? Tiny Cara Island, just across the Sound of Gigha, has its ‘Brownies’ Chair’. Perhaps they threw them from there (though you wouldn’t normally think them so strong).

Near Dinas Emrys, Owain ap Macsen fought with a giant. As they were equal in fighting with tree trunks, Owain leapt up a hill on the other side of the river and cast a stone which fell at the feet of the giant, who cast it back. They then tried wrestling. Owain became enraged, threw down the giant, who shattered a huge stone in the fall and a piece entering his back, he was killed. In dying he crushed Owain to death.

From T Gwynn Jones’s “Welsh Folklore and Folk Custom” (1930), from a Welsh 1875 source.

I grew up just down the hill from Milk Churn Joan (as we were taught it by local farmers, etc). The story I heard as a kid was that Joan who had two very sickly parents went out in a very bleak and fierce winter in search of milk. I forget the details but she meets the devil who (perhaps) offers an exchange of life for the life of her parents. She accpets and that is her to this day on the hill.

As for donating a penny on top, this is indeed true and me and a friend would regularly go up there to stand on each other’s shoulders to claim the cash. A local farmer (no doubt spuriously) presented a very large old whiskey bottle full of pennies claiming they had all come from the top of Milk Churn Joan to inspire further looting.

The trows/trolls meet here on Midsummer’s Eve – and over by Newark Bay about a-mile-and-a-half as the crow flies is Trowietown (not far from the burnt mounds etc. of HY50SE 2).

From Ruth L Tongue’s ‘Somerset Folklore’.

Zebedee Fry were coming home late from the hay-making above Shipham. It were full moon, for they’d worked late to finish, and the crop was late being a hill field, so he had forgot what night ‘twas. He thought he saw something big and dark moving in the field where the big stone stood, but he was too bone-weary to go chasing any stray bullock. Then something huge and dark in field came rustling all alongside lane hedge, and Zebedee he up and dive into the brimmles in the ditch till it passed right along, and then he ran all a-tiptoe to reach Shipham. When he come to the field gate he duck two-double and he rush past it. But, for all that, he see this gurt stone, twelve feet and more, a-dancing to itself in the moonlight over top end of field. And where it always stood the moon were shining on a heap of gold money. But Zebedee he didn’t stop for all that, not until he were safe at the inn at Shipham. They called he all sorts of fool for not getting his hand to the treasure – but nobody seemed anxious to have a try – not after he’d told them how nimble it danced round field. And nobody knows if ‘twill dance again in a hundred years. Not till there’s a full moon on Midsummer Night.

This was told to Tongue by a schoolfriend, who’d heard it from her Mendip great grandmother, who was 90 at the time.

Taken from Sacred Ireland:

This crag is traditionally the home of ‘Aoibheal’, meaning ‘the glowing one’ and goddess of this place. It is a powerful nature sanctuary. ‘Carrickeevul’ meaning ‘Aoibheal’s Rock’ is a 20 feet high projecting rock. She was the goddess protectress of the Dál gCais clan and this was her power place, high above their ancient seat at Greenanlaghna. The story goes that Aoibheal appeared to Brian (Boru) on the night before his death at Clontard in 1014. In her role as ‘bean sí’ or ‘banshee’, she foretold his death. Towards the end of the battle the next day, when the king’s attendants suggested to Brian that he move away from the fighting (he was 73 years old), he said no, he would stay because Aoibheal had already predicted his death. She is said to have left Craglea when the old woods were cut down. New forests have been planted, so she may have returned. The fort of Greenanlaghna down below is overgrown and dilapidated, but a special place none the less.